Death Becomes Her
by J. N. Williamson
Summary: For a brief moment of time, she had thought that the danger had passed—that nothing could keep her from the happiness she so rightfully deserved but turns out that fate had a different point of view when she's sent back into the year, 1985. Nothing better than playing cat and mouse with four vampires—bloody hell, what had she gotten herself into this time? {Fem!Harry — Book #1}
1. Death Becomes Her — Prologue

**Death Becomes Her — Book #1.**

For a brief moment of time, she had thought that the danger had passed—that nothing could keep her from the happiness she so rightfully deserved but turns out that fate had a different point of view when she's sent back into the year, 1985. Nothing better than playing cat and mouse with four vampires—bloody hell, what had she gotten herself into this time? {Fem!Harry — Book #1}

 _Disclaimer_ : I in no means own anything associated with the Lost Boys, not Harry Potter. I merely own my imagination.

 **I have not watched Lost Boys not Harry Potter in a long time; though I should probably brush up on my Potter lore before delving deeper into this. I have done research on both and I sincerely hope that this idea doesn't blow up in my face.**

 **Right. On with the little teaser chapter. Am working on the first one as we speak.**

* * *

 **— Prologue —**

 **London — 31 July, 2001.**

"I just want to be _alone_." It did not take a fool to notice the immense concern shimmering behind Hermione's gaze, nor the brief flash of disappointment that had crossed Ronald's features, but as Harriet Potter excused herself from the table, she couldn't find the time to care either. "Just have fun, I'll see you two tomorrow."

It had taken all her willpower to push herself up and out the chair, but not wanting to add more silence to a rather uncomfortable night of celebration, Harriet knew it was best she leave before she messed things up.

Up until the moment she had finally tumbled out the crowded pub, their eyes had never left her form. Perhaps she was being selfish but the raging battle within her was something she could no longer ignore.

 _I have everything and yet I want more._ It never seized to amaze her how the thick blanket of darkness hanging above her could become so beautiful—the stars shimmering in all their glory. How such an innocent thing could withhold its ground surrounded by eternal darkness would always boggle her mind. _I am lost but would it be fair of me to ask for guidance?_

The emptiness she felt at that moment could easily be described as despair ripping the last shred of hope she had within her—that somewhere in the dark and dreary world out there that happiness would soon knock on her door.

Despite the danger having passed, despite the losses she had overcome and the sacrifices she had made; would happiness ever find her? Often times she would wander aimlessly through her dreams, something that she hadn't done since— ** _no!_**

She couldn't bare to think of him. The one man she could trust with all her secrets and in the end, she had done nothing to save him as he plummeted towards the abyss waiting to swallow him whole.

She had lost so much and had gained more throughout the years but a dark part of her wanted more—yearned for more. It was a part of her she had fought to hide from the prying eyes of those around her.

There was a darkness within her that even she, herself, could not deny but for the sake of those she cared for, she'd rather suffer through her own misgivings than burden them with her problems.

 _I am a selfish little git. Thinking that I'm the only one with all the problems; that I'm the only one that sacrificed it all._ But was asking for a moment of true happiness too much? Would life rather see her suffer than cut her some well deserved slack? She wanted nothing more than to turn around and barge back into the Leaky Cauldron but would it be for her sake or for those she cared about; sit there and pretend that nothing was wrong; to live life without worrying, because what was there to fear?

She had done her part more than once—so what was blocking her path between finding happiness? Did she need more closure or was she waiting for a sign that would reassure her that the danger had passed? _You should be celebrating this night with them. You only turn twenty one once. Why not make the most of it?_

What would her parents say if they saw her now? Would they be proud of the young woman she had become or would they have demanded better from her? In all honesty, everything she had done was hoping that she'd never be a disappointment. That she'd never let anyone down but had she truly tried her best?

"Who is this person staring back at me?" It was a question she'd often ask herself, one that would always remain unanswered. At that moment, it had felt like the whole world had turned their gaze upon her—mocking and laughing at the mistakes she had made. That she could have done better, that she could have done more had she known that everyone she had ever cared about would either leave her behind or vanish at the likes of her hands.

 _You are weak, Harry. You couldn't save your parents. You couldn't save Dumbledore. You couldn't save Sirius. You couldn't even safe your friends. What hopes do you have upon saving yourself?_

Someone was bound to get hurt, one way or another. And she'd always be powerless to stop it from happening. She didn't deserve them. How could they still look at her without being disgusted and angered? How could they love her without feeling an ounce of anger? It had been her fault—.

"Happy Birthday, Harriet." Smiling politely at the elderly woman—she recognized to be one Francesca Le Fray; a fellow Auror—Harriet murmured her thanks before continuing down the street. It was praises like that which caused her heart to ache in guilt and the burning sensation below her breast to tingle. She had left so abruptly that she did not even thank her friends for the gifts they and many others had bestowed upon her. Some friend she was.

Shaking her head in hopes that it would ease the pounding at the back of her skull, Harriet Potter sighed in contempt. Such was life—it never failed to remind her that she wasn't the one in control. Taking a deep breath as she finally neared Grimmauld Place, Harriet couldn't help but think back to the first time she had found herself standing before the building. It had done good, for a first impression. Considering that number twelve was hidden from muggle eyes, most residents have accepted the amusing mistake in numbering that had caused number eleven to sit beside number thirteen.

Living in apartment sixteen herself, she often found herself chuckling at the confused expressions some would portray upon first seeing it. Though her apartment was small in most eyes—mostly Hermione's—it was bigger than what Harriet was use to.

It was _home_.

And then the absurd thought hit her. Did someone like her deserve a second chance? Was there such a thing as redemption? Would there be a place on this earth where she could go where no one knew who she was nor cared what she did? A place where she could hide and not continuously look over her shoulder for the first sign of danger?

Because the moment her fingers curled around the brass painted doorknob leading to her apartment; the last thought that crossed her mind was, _did my doorknob just turn into a portkey_ , before a bright light consumed her and all she knew was darkness.

 ** _"It's time for you to come home, princess."_**

* * *

 _ **Author**_ Note; I sincerely hope that I'm the only one thinking that this could have been better. I am not a perfect writer so I am not going to judge whether you don't like how I wrote Harry as a female. This is purely written for fun, though I'd like to hear the thoughts on this rather odd idea of mine.

Much love.


	2. Death Becomes Her — 1

_**Death Becomes Her — Book #1.**_

For a brief moment of time, she had thought that the danger had passed—that nothing could keep her from the happiness she so rightfully deserved but turns out that fate had a different point of view when she's sent back into the year, 1985. Nothing better than playing cat and mouse with four vampires—bloody hell, what had she gotten herself into this time? {Fem!Harry — Book #1}

 ** _Disclaimer_** : I in no means own anything associated with the Lost Boys, not Harry Potter. I merely own my imagination.

I am absolutely floored at the response I have gotten. Just, wow. You guys are so awesome, I just can't put it in words. Thank you so much for supporting this, it means so much to me. I am aware that Hedwig is no more but for the sake of my sanity; I decided not to kill her off. She's too precious and means too much.

* * *

— **1.** —

 ** _"Harry..."_**

It spun around and 'round her head, the sensational feeling of something gliding across the back of her neck; featherlight, she could feel the small hairs at the nape of her neck raise in response. The familiar feeling of lips brushing against the shell of her ear had goosebumps traveling across her skin—a content hum tumbling from her lips.

 ** _"Harry..."_** Her name was whispered in utter desperation, adoration and despite the sensual feeling coursing through her veins, the darkness lingering behind the voice whispering sweet nothings to her did not go unnoticed. It was enough to rouse the young woman from the deep unconsciousness that had claimed her moments ago.

 _ **"You are mine, Harry..."**_

Shivering at the dark undertone murmuring those words, a loud gasp tore from her throat as her surroundings finally stopped spinning. The pounding in her head indicated that all though she had drunk her fair share of butterbeers and shots of vodka; there was no mistaking the events that had taken place the moment she touched that blasted doorknob.

Groaning in displeasure at discovering that she was sprawled face first upon the Axminster carpet Mrs. Weasly had taken the liberty of installing in her apartment—complaining that the tiled floor was to ghastly to even look at—Harriet Potter couldn't help but wonder whether she had imagined it all.

Though that did not explain the voices whispering her name, nor did it explain the unsettled owl hooting and banging against the cage. "Too early, Hedwig." Harriet murmured blinking rapidly before finally mustering enough courage to stand on her own to feet. "What's got your feathers in a bunch?"

Running a hand across her tired face, the young woman couldn't help but brush her own fingers across the crook of her neck before gliding towards the back, a frown of confusion soon forming on her face as she glanced around the apartment.

Nothing seemed amiss. Perhaps she had been to lost in thought that her mind had finally decided that enough was enough.

But even so—. "I'm fine. Would you please stop making so much bloody noise!" A groan filled with guilt tumbled from her lips the moment the obnoxious rattle stopped and Harriet was left in silence once more. "I'm sorry, Hedwig. I just had a rough night."

 _How late is it?_

"I'm sure it can't be that late." In hopes of appeasing the pounding in her head, the young witch rubbed her temples as she slowly moved through the apartment, mumbling as she did so. Patting Hedwig's cage in reassurance, Harriet Potter couldn't help but recall how she had ruined a perfectly good night for those who cared about her more than she cared about herself and sighed.

Would they forgive her once she laid everything out on the table? Could she be helped? No, this was something she had to face alone. No one understood, so how could she expect them to help her?

A quick wave of her hand and the once darkened kitchen alit in a warm, golden glow. It had taken her a few practices before she had found the right gesture—it seemed engraved in her mind now—considering that the first few times had caused her too buy three sets of light globes and a new microwave.

 _Oh the perks of being a witch. Never a dull moment in life,_ Harriet thought amusedly at herself before opening the refrigerator, fingers drumming against the door before reaching for the half bottle of Orange juice hidden at the back. _There's always something._

And just as she placed her lips over the lid, her gaze slid across the kitchen before setting them upon the vintage clock Mrs. Weasly had given her on her nineteenth birthday. It had taken her a moment to register what exactly she was focusing on but the moment it clicked, the mouthful of orange juice she had swallowed was sprayed across the floor, splatters finding themselves on the shelves.

 _Bloody hell. I am so late. How can I be so late?_ Running rampant through her apartment, she slid across the floor—having forgotten that she had dropped the orange juice in the process—and barely caught herself against the diner table before rushing towards her room.

 _I am going to be in so much trouble. I should have been there for the meeting, bloody hell. Ronald is not going to be happy with me._ Having flung her wardrobe open, the young woman grumbled as she quickly pulled off the dark jeans she had worn the previous night before pulling off the red blouse she had worn with it. Reaching for her uniform; which consisted out of a pair of black pumps, a dark pencil skirt seemed a shade between black and blue and a white blouse, Harriet didn't waste any time as she quickly got dressed.

Making sure that she had everything, the young woman found herself rather disturbed at seeing her reflection. But thanking Hermione for having taken the time into engraving the spell in her head.

"Accio, wand!" Having caught her wand in time before it knocked against the side of her head, the young woman pointed the tip towards her frazzled hair before murmuring, "Frizzo Reducto."

In less than two seconds, her frazzled hair was tamed in a more tolerable way; not that she could complain, considering that time was running out. Having made sure that she had everything, she tucked her wand in the safety of her sleeve before meandering through the apartment.

 **"Harry..."** It sent a shiver down her spine, the voice that whispered her name as if it was the only one worth murmuring. She could feel it tickling her behind the shell of her ear, the feeling that someone was breathing down her neck; but having turned around, it just wasn't possible—though Harriet couldn't quite classify it as strange, having faced far more in her life than to worry about unseen forces messing with her mind.

Perhaps she should be taken to an asylum, have her head checked. Shaking her head after having checked twice that nobody had broken into her apartment, the woman bid her farewell to Hedwig before moving towards the door.

 _I suppose I must have imagined it all last night. Should mention this to Hermione; considering that she's become a magnet for all things unexplainable._

Had last night been a dream? Knowing what it felt like to use a portkey; Harriet had honestly thought that her doorknob had turned into one. But that was impossible—.

"You have got to be bloody kidding me." It was like stepping into a dream, but instead of pinching herself, Harriet promptly stared at the image before turning around and slamming the door close. "Is asking for one normal day too much to ask for?"

Counting till ten, she tried to comprehend her situation and deduced that this was just her mind taking a stroll through the park. Because that asylum sounded mighty fine right about now. Breathing in and out, the young witch eased her beating heart to a reasonable rate before smoothing down the invisible wrinkles on her blouse.

Twisting the doorknob while keeping her eyes shut, Harriet Potter could honestly admit that she would not be surprised to learn that indeed, her mind had finally left her.

"Hedwig, I don't think we're in London anymore."

* * *

 **Author Note: I** am quite content with how this chapter turned out and I hope you all agree. Hope it didn't sound forced and that there aren't too many mistakes. I am trying to keep Harriet in character but then I decided that this is a female version so she might act a little different than what Harry would do and say. I just hope that it makes sense. And thanks for all the support. I promise in the next chapter I'll thank each and every person who added this to their follow list and favorited it; just give me some time.

The boys make their appearance in the next one so that should be exciting, right? Can't wait to hear what you guys think. Until next time.


	3. Death Becomes Her — 2

**Disclaimer** : I don't own anything associated with Lost Boys or Harry Potter for that matter. I merely own my imagination.

I am still not sure whether I should jump and scream but I just want to thank everyone who has read, followed, favorites and reviewed so far. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 **Death Becomes Her — Lost in Santa Carla.**

Torn between her thoughts and never ending questions, it didn't take a fool to notice that Harriet Potter was besides herself. Having seen enough in her life to know that nothing good would come from this, the young woman just couldn't wrap her mind around it all.

Portkeys didn't have the ability to send someone back into the past; for the only thing that could explain this all was if she had a time-turner on her person, which she didn't.

Unless...

Shaking the troubles from her mind, Harriet supposed she could find out for herself what was going on; considering that she had failed to contact her friends and the Ministry. It must have registered to them that something was amidst, because it wasn't like Harriet to miss a day of work, unless the reason demanded her utmost attention.

It could have been worse, she supposed with a frown, her gaze intently traveling back and forth between the opened books sprawled around her before she rubbed her temples in hopes of appeasing the dull throb pounding against her skull.

Still having no clue where she was, her location spell having failed, it became clear that if she were to finally come in contact with the Ministry, she should at least know where she was.

But knowing she couldn't walk around wearing her uniform, Harriet deduced that she should at least dress the part; having peeked through her curtain, she could spot a few muggles mulling about.

It was upon that when it became apparent that she had somehow found herself back in the past; from the funky hairstyles up until the fashion, Harriet didn't know what to think.

But not being one to jump to conclusions, she just had to face her problems without hesitation and fear, because knowing that her luck had ran out, she couldn't help but wonder in what mess life had thrown her into this time.

Knowing that she didn't exactly have clothes that blended in; Harriet supposed she just had to make the most out of her situation. Rubbing a hand down her face, the young woman merely flicked her wrist; the open books surrounding her closing with loud snaps that broke the silence before return to their rightful places.

 _Let's get crackin'._ Pushing herself from the carpet, the witch pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and frowned. What was she supposed to do; what would she even say? Oh yea, she could see it now.

Though it all depended on where she was and what backstory her mind could conjure when questions would be asked; knowing that it would seem rather strange and odd if she outright muttered what her mind was screaming.

 _ **"Pardon me, I seem a bit lost. Could you possibly tell me where I am and what year it is? I think I might have been placed in the wrong century."**_

Yes, that would work perfectly. "Where is Hermione when you need her?" Raking her slim fingers through her hair, the witch merely huffed in response towards Hedwig's hoots and smiled.

"I'll be fine. Just going for a walk, no harm in investigating a rather serious case. I'll blend in as best I can and just pretend that I'm hunting down a Dark Wizard."

 _What am I doing? This isn't some joke, Harry. This is serious_. What was she going to do if the Ministry couldn't locate her—that was just a disaster waiting to happen. Having paced the length of her small living room, another deep intake of breath had rekindled the flame of courage hiding within her and with a little speech, she knew that this was something she had to do.

 _What was the spell that I used? Crinus Muto? I turned my eyebrows yellow in 1996. I suppose I now have a reason to change my hair._ Reaching for her wand, she pulled it from her sleeve before pointing it at her hair. "Crinus Muto."

The tip of her wand glowed an ethereal pink and Harriet couldn't help but smile as the dark brown hair she had become to loath turn into a funky red, the tips of her hair taking a light green tint before stopping below her chest—a slight curl that made her hair bounce with each step she took.

 _There. That should do the trick. I guess it's a little too much but at least I won't be stared at._ Knowing that she had something that resembled what she had seen some muggles wear, the young woman supposed she was as ready as ever.

Tugging the sleeves of her leather jacket up her arms, she fluffed up her hair and winked at her reflection. _If only Hermione could see me now._

And all this just to find out a little bit of information. Oh the horror. "Wish me luck, Hedwig." Not that she would need it.

 **Death Becomes Her.**

"I shouldn't even be here. Bloody hell," too say that she was taken aback would have been the understatement of the century. "—this is all so confusing." From the corner of her eye, she could spot the elderly lady looking on in concern, something that Harriet did not need at that moment.

She recalled the dubious stare the woman had first given her when Harriet had entered the small little diner but after probably seeing the absolute mortification and desperation look in her eyes, the woman had informed her that the date was—.

"Hun, you don't look that good. You sure you don't need anythin'?" Smiling as politely as she could, given her circumstance, Harriet mulled for a moment before nodding.

"I'll have a," peeking at the menu, Harriet squinted under the bright light before making her decision. "—bubblegum milkshake and fries?" Wincing at her words that sounded more like a question, Harriet watched the elderly woman—who's name badge read; Chelsea—smile knowingly.

"Comin' right up." Hesitating for a moment, Chelsea seemed conflicted about something before sighing. "You ain't from around here, are ye' kid?"

 _Oh bloody hell. Is it that obvious? Should I change my voice?_ "Don't worry; it ain't my business. Santa Carla is known for taking in runts and strays. I've seen them come and go," pointing her pen towards Harriet, she continued. "—but none like you. Somethin' tells me you are a long way from home."

And the woman couldn't have been more right. _Americans_. She thought with a smile before scratching at her cheek, "I won't cause any trouble," not that it was ever her intention to cause it; because after all, she was a magnet for it, "—cross my heart."

"It's not you I'm worried about," glancing at the clock situated on the wall behind them, Chelsea sighed in contempt before nodding. "—I'll get that order for you."

 _I am screwed._ Watching as the woman strutted off into what she assumed was the kitchen, Harriet was once again left to wallow in her own thoughts. Drifting through the countless questions, she found herself staring out the window, gaze instantly locked upon the people mulling about.

From children running about and kids in their late teens, Harriet supposed it could have been a lot worse. Not that it makes everything better. _I'm in America, not how I imagined my trip being, but somehow I found my way back in 1985 with no clue how I am going to fix this and I'm pretty sure Santa Carla doesn't exist._

Such was the life of a witch. Never a dull moment, never normal. The sun had set hours ago and it didn't take a fool to notice that the only thing this place had to offer for ages alike was the Boardwalk and the ocean looming behind it.

The humid air was something she was not accustomed too, having frowned at the stickiness clinging to her skin and the salty flavor that would linger in her mouth after each breath she took—for now, this was still a shock.

The lights flickered on and off, startling the couple sitting a few booths from her and Harriet knew she was the one at fault. Her emotions were getting the better of her.

 _One thing at a time. One thing at a time._ Mumbling a thanks while keeping her head down, Harriet wondered for a brief time how she was going to pay for it all when it tickled her senses.

"Fuck." Had she been thinking straight, the witch would have been shocked at the curse tumbling from her mouth but as shocks of pain coursed through her body, Harriet continued to breath heavily while having slapped her palm against her forehead.

She could hear Chelsea question whether she was all right but waving a hand in reassurance, she mumbled her thanks and eased her breathing. It struck fear into her; the moment she had realized the source of her pain.

Her scar.

And then the sensation of being watched had the girl searching, whether in desperate need to know who was causing her to react in this manner or in reassurance that it wasn't who she thought it was, Harriet knew her trouble had arrived.

 ** _"Found you."_** Because the darkened orbs staring straight at her was something that she would never forget. And nothing could stop the shiver from running down her spine the moment she caught sight of the animalistic gleam flashing across his eyes, nor the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he continued to watch her.

"Bloody hell."

* * *

 **Author Note:** I am feeling rather happy with this chapter and I hope I'm not the only one. Who do you think is behind those darkened orbs? What could cause such a reaction?

And I have decided that I am going with Bella Thorne as the face claim for Harriet. The hairstyle is based on when she had hers dyed in red and green with her sister.

Hope I made the right choice though. I also started a new story; if you would like to read it. I'm delving into the background concerning David's past before he became a vampire, so heads up on that one.

And also a thanks to those who added this story to their lists and followed it; I appreciate each and every one of you. Also thanks for reading it thus far, hope this chapter didn't disappoint.

Would like to hear your thoughts.

Until then,

Love Jesse.


	4. Death Becomes Her — 3

**Disclaimer** : I don't own anything associated with Harry Potter or the Lost Boys. I merely own my imagination and ideas.

I am rather disappointed at how this chapter turned out but hopefully I'm the only one that thinks so. I am eager to hear what you guys thought. And also thanks to those who have read, favorited and followed this story; as well as those who have reviewed. Support means so much to me.

* * *

 **Death Becomes Her — 3.**

* * *

It became apparent to one Harriet Potter that the familiar tingle running up and down her skin would not disappear hence it came from and though she shifted, twisted and wriggled, the young woman could not overcome her curiousity.

Having stared at the plate of fries that had been placed before her, the thought of eating it now made her stomach grumble in displeasure. The painful ache was still there and though she had rubbed and scratched, the itch would not go away.

She had tried to occupy herself by staring out the window, watching the people mull outside without a care in the world. Though it dwindled in comparison, watching the Boardwalk come to life reminded her of the first time she had set foot into Diagon Alley.

And though it lacked the magical trinkets, Harriet Potter could not find an ounce of doubt that this place made its own magic happen—from little kids running around up until those around her age, it was surprising to see them all so calm, so joyful. Something that she had lacked for a while in her life. Being an Auror had always been her dream and now that she had become one alongside her friend, Ronald, life couldn't have gotten any better—up until she found herself in this mess.

Challenging life had never been at the top of her list but beggars can't be choosers, she supposed taking a sip of bubblegum milkshake. It mingled with the saltiness in her mouth, though something she had thought would be unpleasant.

It became increasingly difficult to ignore the intensifying gaze burning holes into her but being one who never succumbed to her curiosity, rather being one who listened to her instincts, Harriet Potter remained focused on anything other than the four boys leisurely sitting upon their motorcycles, watching her every move with scrutizing gazes.

Though one in particular had captured her attention, it was obvious from the start that these boys were nothing but trouble and considering her situation, trouble was the last thing she needed at the moment.

Knowing that it was most probably time to head on home, as she had found what she was looking for, Harriet once again found herself wondering how in the bloody hell was she going to pay for it all.

Unless this diner accepted pounds, then everything would be—. "Like I said," blinking at the sudden appearance of Chelsea collecting the empty plate, Harriet watched on in confusion as the woman sent a fleeting glance towards the door. "–it ain't you I'm worried about."

The bell above the door jingled and had it not been for familiar feeling of dread sinking into her bones, Harriet would have brushed it off. "Look," Chelsea leaned forward, her frame blocking Harriet's gaze from whoever entered the diner and sighed. "—you seem like a nice kid but do me a solid and stay away from these boys. I don't want to see a pretty face like yours go to waste. Now this meal is on me but don't expect a freebie the next time you come by." Appalled and a little bewildered, the young woman watched Chelsea saunter off into the kitchen before blinking.

 _I guess that's my cue to leave._ Slapping a hand on her forehead, the familiar sensation of something, or rather someone messing with her mind had the witch clenching her teeth in anticipation. Eyes closed, she could feel the familiar gaze return and wondered briefly whether there was something on her face, if not—.

Running a hand through her hair, the witch finally slid from the booth and patted down the invisible dust from her jacket before inhaling sharply. Knowing that there was no other exit but the one her tormentors were blocking, Harriet supposed that no harm could come from this.

Just a bunch of boys fooling around, nothing she hadn't faced before. It had taken one step forward and it all came crashing down the moment her gaze locked with his once more. Her heart jumping once more in her throat, she counted till ten with each step she took; ever aware that she was being closely watched.

Just three more steps. It felt like a lifetime as she finally inched towards her freedom and just as she brushed past him to reach for the door, a firm grip untop of hers stopped her from doing such.

"Chill, babe. Where's the fire?" Could this get any better? Flexing her fingers as a jolt of electricity zapped through her, Harriet knew the moment she retracted her hand from the doorknob that nothing good would come from this.

Flicking her gaze back and forth, Harriet felt cornered. "Can you please move? I really don't have time for this." There was a pausing moment where neither individual moved nor blinked, the firm grip on her hand never letting go and for a moment, Harriet had thought it had tightened.

"And here I thought we'd introduce ourselves like civil people," for a moment, Harriet found herself transfixed by the intensity swimming behind his blue eyes and had it not been for his hair color that reminded her of Malfoy, she would have contemplated at exchanging pleasantries. "—considering you couldn't take your eyes off us."

And the last thing either of them expected was the burst of laughter than tumbled from her lips, "Look, I'm sure that pickup line works on most girls but I'm sorry to say that your good looks and witty charm doesn't work on me. I'm lesbian."

The words slipped out her mouth before she could stop them and whether surprised or shocked at her words, Harriet merely fumbled for the doorknob the moment the tall, dark and broody let go of her hand and saluted in mocking amusement. "But I'll let you guys now when I start swinging the right way."

Where this confidence and brash behavior was coming from boggled her mind because as she slowly maneuvered her way through the throng of people blocking her path, her arm raised in the air and middle finger extending.

 _Kiss my lily white ass._

Shocked would have been the understatement as the young witch hurried on him, her steps precise and calculated, quick and efficient as if Voldemort himself had resurrected.

Perhaps the need to understand her situation, mingled with desperation and exhaustion had caused her to react in such a way. _I'm lesbian. You couldn't have thought of anything better?_ But she couldn't deny it. Though dark and dangerous, there was just something about those boys that made her curious.

Though it was overwhelmed by her sense of flight or fight and at that moment, flight had sounded like the better option.

Those eyes. It seemed as if though they were staring straight through my soul. Shaking the thoughts and events from her mind, Harriet Potter knew that her trouble had just started.

What would her parents think? She had no doubt in her mind that the two were turning in their graves. She was rude, in a sense; despite wanting nothing more than to march back to that diner and grovel at their feet. It wasn't like her. But who cared? It wasn't like she'd be here long enough for them to remember her name.

Though the least she could do was swallow her pride and apologize. But the road ahead looked dark and dreary and Chelsea's words flashed through her mind.

 ** _Do me a solid and stay away from those boys?_**

Did the woman know something she didn't? Of course she did, Harriet. Scolding her own stupidity, the witch finally eased a breath of relief as her apartment came into view—for the moment she stumbled into the only thing reminding her that this was no dream, the witch could only hope for the best.

Because the moment she closed her eyes; Harriet Potter would never be the same. Cause all it took was one taste of temptation and she knew that this was far from over.

* * *

Author Note: So it wasn't too boring or utterly ridiculous? Though their interaction was brief and rather dull, I could just imagine the scene playing out. Hope this chapter didn't disappoint.

Much blessings,

Jesse.


	5. Death Becomes Her — 4

**_Disclaimer_** : I in no means am associated with either the Lost Boys nor Harry Potter, so I cannot own anything but my imagination.

I am so sorry for not having updated in a while, I just recently got a new job that required all my attention but without further ado, here is the fourth chapter. I also want to thank each and everyone of you for sticking with this story; favoriting it, reviewing it and following it. It means the world to me that you guys like this so far. For the guest who's birthday is tomorrow, I wish you the best in the present and future. I hope you have a kickass birthday and I love you all.

Also note that my time is also being taken on a new story I am working on, though I'm not quite sure whether I should go through with. But without further delay read on.

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Down the Rabbit Hole.**

* * *

It was the unmistakeable sound of a woman screaming in the distance that shattered the peace and quiet that had lulled her into a state of unconsciousness. Her body jerked upwards, jolting her slightly as she blinked blearily at the darkened surroundings—the sudden bright light that flowed from the tip of her wand a clear sign that she was prepared for whatever lingered in the shadows.

"Harriet," she scolded herself after her bedroom illuminated in a soft, purplish glow. "—you git. It was just a nightmare. Nothing to be afraid of, I'm sure." _Though not that anyone in their right mind would attack a slumbering witch. Big mistake._

But knowing that it would be futile to go back to sleep, the young woman ran a trembling hand through her hair before flinging the covers aside and swinging her feet over the edge. "Well I can cross another one of my list," murmuring this as she sluggishly maneuvered herself through her apartment, the young woman still had high hopes that this would all be a dream and the four boys she had met hours prior didn't give her the vibe that something wasn't entirely normal about them.

But who was she to judge? She wasn't exactly borderline normal herself; not

that she could ever point fingers.

"Well I suppose if I'm stuck here," the young witch murmured after flicking on the light switch of the bathroom a few feet from her own bedroom. "—I should probably find a job, not that I need one but still. No reason to sit back and wait for someone to eventually show up. But first things first," nodding at her reflection in determination and shame, Harriet couldn't help but think that she had made an utter fool of herself— ** _oh dear,_** Hermione would have a fit if she were there to witness it.

Harriet would never live it down; which made her even more determined to fix things up. The last thing she needed was to make enemies in a place she hardly knew.

 _But on the other hand, that is a confrontation that could wait for later._ Knowing that it was still dark out, most probably a little after one in the morning, Harriet supposed she could bid her time by finally opening her presents. _Has that been in my teeth the whole bloody time?_

Rolling her eyes at the image staring back at her in the enchanted mirror, Harriet brushed her colorful hair aside before splashing her face with ice cold water—and having made sure that she was awake enough, the young woman couldn't help the small bounce in her step as she slowly made her way down the hall and once again into her bedroom.

Reaching for the jacket she had worn the night when everything and everyone thought it'd be funny to push her down the rabbit hole, Harriet took out a handful of shrunken little boxes before making sure that every single item was out her pockets.

Hovering her wand over it all, the young woman murmured _engorgio_ under her breath and smiled in content as the loud sound of the springs in her bed screeched in protest at the sudden heaviness placed upon it. "Of course, who would have guessed."

It didn't come as a surprise to see that almost every sweet she could think of happened to be sprawled before her—encouraging and whispering tempting promises to her but not wanting to go on a sugar rampage, the young woman shook her head before smiling at the familiar sight of the photo Hermione had taken of her and Ron on their first day as Aurors. A day she'd never forget.

It seemed like such an eternity and yet it was like yesterday. There had been memorable moments that Harriet had wished she could have captured but knowing that they'd be forever locked in her mind, the young woman turned her attention towards the next items which consisted out of a new set of designer clothes—curtesy of one Hermione Granger—and a pair of enchanted socks that could warm her feet whenever they got cold, Harriet couldn't be more happier.

A few spell books—that she had pestered Ronald since the day she had seen them in the book shop in Diagon Alley—some cauldrons, a few rolls of enchanted parchements, quills, potion bottles and so much more, Harriet couldn't help but wonder where she'd fit it all.

Her alchemy lab was already filled up as is, not that a quick spell or two could fix. Though having scoured through the smaller odds and ends, the young woman could barely contain the loud squeal coming from her lips at the fact that staring back at her was something that had her tumbling backwards and crashing to the floor.

 _Oh Merlin no. Please let this be some joke. Just a little one._ Taking the time as she mentally counted till ten, Harriet Potter slowly eased her beating heart before slowly raising her head in order to stare at the familiar image staring back at her.

It all made sense now but was it possible? No, out of all the things that could have happened, fate just had to through this in her face? Couldn't it send her to Wonderland instead?

 _You must be joking me. Out of all the films you could have chosen Ginny—you had to choose that one?_

Because sprawled conveniently next to the eerily familiar image printed on the dvd cover was the shattered fragments of a time-turner.

 ** _Use it well. — Hermione._**

 _Oh Hermione, if only you knew how those words haunts me now._ It shouldn't have been possible but yet there it was in living proof. Though broken proof.

But that wasn't the worst part. No, because staring back at her in all their perfect, glorious selves was the image of the four boys she had met hours staring back at her.

"The Lost Boys. Oh Harriet, you just had to piss off a group of vampires now didn't you? Just let this be a dream," closing her eyes in hopes that it would appease whomever decided to send her to this drab of a hellhole, Harriet Potter could honestly admit that if she didn't find a way to somehow fix this mess she had found herself into—that death would be the least of her problems.

Cause she had a feeling that it wasn't the last time she'd see the troublesome foursome and their unquenchable thirst for virgin blood—shaking her head in brief disappointment, she fought the urge to scold herself for thinking of such a thing at such a dire time in her life before nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Bloody hell. Why does this always happen to me? What have I done to deserve this? It is not fair and it is cruel. What am I suppose to do?" And once again she found herself staring intently at the front cover of the dvd, briefly glaring at the birthday message written at the top left—no doubt Ginny's work—and huffed.

"I suppose there's never a dull moment in the life of Harriet Potter. I should honestly write a book about this all because this is starting to get ridiculous."

And then it finally hit home.

Harriet Potter was beyond **_screwed_** and there was nothing she or anyone else could do about it.

Especially know with four vampires thrown into the mix—life just couldn't get any better.

* * *

 ** _Author Note:_** Well I hope this wasn't as sloppy as I thought it was. I honestly hope that it didn't disappoint you guys and I'm sorry if it wasn't what you expected how Harriet discovered where she was or how she came to realize that the boys are vampires. I promise that the next chapter would be longer and don't worry, there will be plenty of Lost Boys interactions and shenanigans coming soon. I'm just trying to make things smooth before I drop the bomb.

Hope once again that it didn't disappoint.

Love,

 **Jesse**.


	6. Death Becomes Her — 5

**_Disclaimer_** : I don't own anything associated with either the Lost Boys or Harry Potter. I merely own my imagination and of course, original ideas.

I just want to thank each and everyone of you for sticking with this story and supporting it. It means the world to me to know that you guys love reading it. I apologize for the long, awaited chapter but I was so wrapped up in getting my Transformers story up and running that I totally forgot—momentarily—about updating this one.

Hope you guys will forgive me. Can't wait to see what you guys think about this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter Five: The Witch who played with Fire.**

* * *

Harriet Potter cursed the day she was born because at that moment, it took absolutely everything in her power not to groan out in utter disbelief. Had there been a reason fate decided to throw her to the wolves or was this just in simple terms, life's way of showing her that abnormality wasn't done with her yet.

But being the brave and determined soul she was, Harriet honestly had seen enough in her life to know that nothing good would come from this. How hard could it be to find four boys—though not that she could entirely dub them as boys—in a town such as Santa Carla? One that shouldn't even exist, mind you.

But having cursed her idiocy at the sheer knowledge that vampires didn't come out during the day, the young woman was forced to meander through the Boardwalk—familiarizing herself with almost everything in sheer boredom.

And it was due to boredom that had lead her towards the certified Vampire Hunters, the Frog brothers. Not knowing whether she should take them serious or add more madness to the subject, the young woman could only listen at their tall tales of creatures of the night roaming Santa Carla.

"Vampires?" The witch mused staring incredulously at the cover, eyebrow raised before turning her attention towards the two brothers. "You are aware that it's a myth right?"

What was she to do? Blurt out that the two couldn't be more right about their bloodsucking problem? That creatures of the night roamed free, feeding on the innocent and killing for the fun of it?

 ** _No_**. She'd spare them that knowledge, knowing that in time—a few years from now—they'd soon discover that perhaps the truth wasn't what it was all cut out to be. "But thanks for the warning," smiling in gratitude at the two dumbfounded kids, Harriet rolled up the comic book before nodding. "-I'll make sure to get some garlic and holy water when I stop by the shop."

Not that she would be needing it, Harriet thought idly as she quickly meandered out the comic book store—a breath of relief escaping through her lips before running a hand through her hair once more. She wanted nothing more than to turn back and ease their minds that they were right on so many levels but knowing that there was a balance she could not tip, Harriet was forced to watch from the sidelines.

Had Ronald and Hermione been there at her side, Harriet would have no doubt that they would have figured out someway to repair the broken time-turner Harriet had spent hours upon jinxing with spells and poultices. She had even tried to superglue the pieces back together but to no avail, it remained broken.

It had the young woman living in fear—the mere thought of never being able to return back to home. Had Hermione and Ron discovered that she had disappeared without a trace? Were they looking for her? Merlin she truly hoped so.

Nibbling on the candy floss she had bought moments prior, the young woman found herself staring rather intensely at setting sun. A sense of calmness washed over her shoulders at the sound of waves kissing the shoreline, the warm oceanic air brushing against her skin—what more could she ask for?

Not having the courage to answer the rather ironic question, Harriet supposed that if she was stuck in this hell hole for who knows how long, she supposed that letting go of all her worries would make this unfortunate situation a little better.

Having lost track of time, Harriet's troubled thoughts were broken at the familiar sound of engines—motorcycle engines. For unbeknownst to her, the small smile flickering across her face did not go unnoticed.

But knowing that she couldn't outright approach them with her discovery, Harriet supposed she'd stretch on as long as possible. Unless they decided that she was their next meal—yeah, that wouldn't exactly turn out good on both sides.

"Couldn't stay away, could you sweetheart?" It would have been the understatement of the century if she admitted that she didn't find his voice attractive, but knowing that her thoughts weren't safe, Harriet simply tried to reign in those which would no doubt give her away.

She shrugged before turning towards the one who addressed her—from his bleached blonde hair to his unnatural blue eyes, Harriet Potter simply offered him a brief but forced smile. "I could say the same," she mused while flicking her gaze towards the one she recognized as David. "—you just can't catch a hint can you?"

For a brief moment, his eyes darkened in something she could not identify but it was something that sent a noticeable shiver down her spine. "Your playing with fire, little girl."

The sudden glint flashing across his eyes was something she was all to familiar with and all though every fiber in her being screamed for her to tuck tail and run, a sultry smile crossed her features as a sudden burst of excitement pulsed through her veins.

"I don't think I'm the only one. Though I'm just going to cut to the chase," ignoring the smug look flashing across his features, the young woman found herself suddenly nervous upon noticing that their interaction was being closely watched from the distance. "—I just want to apologize for my rash behavior last night. It was uncalled for and I sincerely hope that you can forgive me."

 _Bloody hell, I sound like such an idiot._ "I'm sorry," David said in a rather smooth, slow tone. "I didn't quite catch that." Was he calling her bluff? What more did the guy want from her?

Though taking a step backwards seemed to be the wrong move, Harriet couldn't help but shudder the moment her back collided with a firm chest. "Marko," David mused cocking his head to the side. "—did you catch that?"

Suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of dread as she found herself surrounded, the young witch couldn't help but curse her rotten luck.

From his curly hair and innocent expression, Harriet knew better than to know that looks could be deceiving. "No," he murmured flicking his gaze towards her, shrugging while nibbling as thumb. "-I didn't quite catch that. How bout' you, Paul? Did you catch that?"

Flashing her a wink, Paul merely puckered his lips together before smacking them in utter amusement. "Nah, babe. We didn't quite catch that," his gaze flashed towards the figure looming behind her no doubt before grinning once more. "—Dwayne, did you catch that?"

A firm grip held her shoulder, her heart suddenly jumping in her throat at the sudden contact before shuddering at the sensation coursing through her veins. "I think I did," surprise flashed through her at his words but once more, it diminished when he continued. "—but I'm not quite sure she meant it. Why don't you prove it? We don't bite."

 _Oh dear Lord._ "Unless you like that sort of thing, then by all means. Tell me where."

* * *

 **Author Note:** I am aware that once more, I ended this chapter in a cliffhanger. It makes me excited to see what you guys think. I hope this chapter didn't disappoint because I honestly could imagine Dwayne saying that in a low whisper. I even came up with a name for them, though not entirely sure you'd guys like it.

Dwarriet? Or something. Perhaps you guys could think of something because I am honestly rooting for them, but the pairing is still undecided. I promise that I'll try my best in updating frequently but life and other things come first. Which reminds me once again; please go and check out Among the Stars.

It's the Transformers story I've been working on so if you guys enjoy that fandom, please give a thumbs up or review. Other than that, hope you guys liked this.


	7. Author Note

**_Author Note_**

: _I am sure you are all extremely upset with me at the moment, and I understand the reason why. Life had just been so busy that past few months, and with a baby on the way, I just didn't have time to focus on this. But now that I have spare time, I promise that the next chapter will be up and running in the next few hours. Please be patient and remember that I adore each and every one of your reviews and support._

 _I am also starting a new Marvel story, Requiem for the Broken, and it shall take place from the first Captain America. So please keep an eye out if you are a fan._ _Much love, Jesse_


End file.
